


Stopped Clock

by darklyndsea



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Blanket Permission, Gen, Henry's immortality revealed, Panic Attacks, mental & physical age regression/deaging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:55:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3342734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darklyndsea/pseuds/darklyndsea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even a stopped clock is right twice a day. When Lucas is that stopped clock, Henry will do anything to protect Abe, even if it means revealing his immortality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"What's up, Henry?" Jo asked. "You seem distracted."

"It's likely nothing," Henry replied.

"You sure?"

"Yes," Henry said. "Now, the case?"

 

They were in Jo's car heading to the crime scene when Henry burst out, "It's just that Abe didn't come home last night."

"Well, Henry, I hate to state the obvious, but Abe's a grown man. Maybe he decided to stay the night."

"Yes, of course," Henry said. "And it certainly wouldn't be his first date that ran long. But he hadn't returned home by the time I left, although it was past the time he usually opens the shop. He's usually more conscientious than that, and he usually calls when his paramours keep him out for longer than expected."

"You could take the rest of the day off to look for him if you're really worried about him," Jo offered.

"No," Henry said, showing her a tight smile. "Really, it's likely just a lot of worry over nothing. In the meantime, we have a murder to attend to."

 

The fascinated noises that Henry was making over the body were starting to become worrying. Okay, that was a bit of an understatement—they'd been worrying since the first one he'd made. It was always worrying when Henry got excited about a case.

"Henry…what is it?"

"For one, I can give you an ID of the deceased."

Jo's eyebrows shot up. "That quick? I thought she didn't have an ID on her."

"Lydia Andrews," Henry pronounced.

"How do you know that?"

"She was a paramour of Abe's a few years ago," Henry said. "But the interesting part is that she's been missing for more than a year."

"So she's missing for a year, and she turns up with a knife sticking out of her?" Jo said. "Where has she been?"

"Perhaps there will be some answers to be found in the autopsy."

 

"Wherever she has been for the past year, there are no signs of malnourishment or dehydration, nor any major injuries; physically, she is in as good of health as may be expected for a woman of her age. There is, however, one thing."

"Which is?"

"Her last meal appears to have been a hot dog and candy; certainly not the meal of choice for a woman so concerned about her cardiovascular health that she wouldn't allow Abe to cook for her."

"So, what, she was kidnapped and forced to eat junk food?"

"But why would her kidnapper or kidnappers keep her for a year only to kill her?" Henry asked. "She wasn't a wealthy woman, and there was never any ransom demand. And so far as I've heard, kidnapping senior citizens and keeping them healthy for a year before killing them is far from the usual modus operandi of kidnappers."

 

"Okay, this is weird," Lucas said. "I ran the DNA through CODIS, since some of it probably comes from whoever she struggled with before she died. Two sets of DNA: the attacker's didn't get a hit, but hers did."

"Of course there's a hit," Henry said. "She was a missing person."

"No, that's the weird part," Lucas said. "Look!"

Henry scanned the report. "This is a missing persons report for a ten-year-old girl who disappeared from foster care two days ago."

"False positive?" Jo asked.

"It appears that another Lydia Andrews has gone missing—one who was only found after the elder Lydia went missing. I'd say it's at least worth an investigation."

 

"What can you tell us about Lydia?" Jo asked.

"Well…she's usually pretty happy, but sometimes she gets to thinking about her parents. Foster kids normally have some sort of closure—their parents are dead or they already knew their family was falling apart—but Lydia's parents just up and vanished one day."

"Is there anything you can tell us about when she first came to stay with you, or right before she disappeared?" Jo asked. "Did it ever seem like somebody was watching her? Did she ever say anything about her family?"

"I've never noticed anybody watching her," the foster mother said. "Her family…I think that at first she was too shocked over being abandoned to say much, and later on too hurt. It didn't seem like she'd been abused. If anything, it seemed like she was sheltered—amazed by all the things kids grow up with these days. I mean, not every family shells out for iPhones, but I think the only phones she had experience with were rotary dial."

 

"So what do you think?" Jo asked.

Frustration was obvious in every line of Henry's body. "We've rerun the DNA, and gotten the same results several times over," he said. "I'm as certain as I can be that they match and it's not just some glitch or contamination. But it makes no sense!"

"What makes no sense?"

"For their DNA to match so well, the Lydias would have to be identical twins—something which, quite obviously, is not the case. Of course, it's not completely impossible that DNA should be duplicated by happenstance, even to such a degree, but the chance of it happening is infinitesimal. Even if they had no further connection than living on the same planet—the odds would be infinitesimal. Add in the disappearances and reappearances…I've no explanation for it. I would have said it was impossible."

"You don't even have a theory?"

"Deaging," Lucas interjected. "Some mad scientist figured out how to deage people and used it on Lydia, and then later he made her old again. We're probably going to have a lot more pretty soon. They never stop at one."

Henry gave Lucas a look…more of a glare really. Jo mirrored it.

"Okay, I'll just go…do something now," Lucas said, and made himself scarce.

"Well, he's right about one thing," Jo said. "We're probably going to get more cases that are related. The kind of person who plans out this kind of thing, whatever it is, never seems to stop with just one."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was beta read by Washing Water and Doctor-Henry-Morgan.

"Detective Martinez!" Lucas exclaimed, desperation in his eyes. " Please tell me you have something you can distract Dr. Morgan with."

"What's going on?" Jo asked.

"Abraham still has not returned home," Henry said, seemingly appearing from nowhere. "I was going to go out looking for him after work."

"You don't have to stay today," Jo said. "Why don't you take a personal day?"

Henry sighed. "The last time I couldn't find Abe and panicked, he complained that I was 'cramping his style' because I interrupted a date," he explained. "As he may yet be on a date, I'd prefer to postpone such complaints as long as possible, preferably by way of his reappearance before I have to track him down. But I could use a good distraction in the meantime."

"Well, you're in luck," Jo said. "Unis found a few kids who might be related to the Lydia Andrews case. They were in the warehouse district, same as the younger Lydia, and they said they didn't know how they got there. They could all give their home addresses, but nobody living at those addresses claimed the kids."

"Do we at least know their names?"

"Hanson's got everything we know so far," Jo said. "I came down here before it came in."

 

Hanson greeted them with an "I don't get it."

"What don't you get?" Jo asked.

"The kids are obviously lying about where they live, but why? I mean, no way they're street kids, so what reason could they possibly have to hide the truth?"

"Perhaps they are telling the truth, as they know it," Henry suggested.

"One of the kids said he lives at 69th and 2nd."

"So?" Henry asked. "I used to live in that area. It might even have been the same building; I don't recall the exact address."

"So that building was replaced with an office building a decade ago." Hanson handed Henry a file. "Here's everything we've got on the kids so far."

Henry only looked at the file for a few seconds before he abruptly looked up and asked, "Where are they?"

"They're in the interview room," Hanson said. "What—" but Henry had already shoved the file into Jo's hands and taken off. "What's with him?" Hanson asked Jo.

Jo flipped open the file and skimmed. "Wait, one of the kids is named Abe Morgan," she said.

"Yeah, so what?" Hanson asked. "Is he related to the doc?"

"Henry said his roommate Abe is the closest thing to family that he's got."

"So he's not family then…unless the kid's been raised by his mom?"

"Don't ask me. You know how Henry is. He'll tell you more than you ever wanted to know about his sex life, but he's a closed book about everything else." Her tone was considering. "The kid must be named after his roommate, though. Abe's not exactly the most common name."

"Who names their kid after their roommate? Even if they are practically family."

"I guess Henry does."

 

Henry looked into the interview room at the kids and stopped dead in his tracks. It couldn't be—it was impossible!

"In or out, Henry," Lieutenant Reece's voice rang out, drawing the children's attention to the doorway.

"Dad!" One of the boys shouted, and threw himself into Henry's willing arms.

Henry's eyes darted to his watching colleagues, but he hesitated only the barest fraction of a second. "Abraham! Are you all right?" He asked, inspecting the boy like he thought he might have some fatal wound that the police somehow managed to miss.

"I'm fine," Abe said. "What's going on?"

"That's a rather complicated issue and we still don't know all the answers," Henry sidestepped. "We were hoping you could help us find some answers."

"But I don't know what's going on!" Abe protested.

"Abe," Henry chided. "Please, just answer the detectives' questions. Any detail might help."

Lt. Reece cleared her throat. "Henry, can I speak to you?"

Henry looked at her, his eyes wide with something she would call fear, if there had been any reason for him to be afraid. "Yes. Yes, of course," he said. "Abe, I'll be back in a few minutes."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter beta read by Washing Water

Henry tucked his scarf more closely around his neck as they walked to Reece's office, counting his inhales to keep his breathing even.

The possibilities flashed through his mind. He would prefer for it all to be a coincidence, however improbable. He would prefer for it to be a hoax. He even would prefer for the younger Lydia, and now young Abe, to be clones, however ridiculous the idea was. _That_ , at least, would be supported by actual science. The only alternative remaining was… ludicrous. But young Abe had _recognized_ him, had acted exactly as he remembered Abe acting when he was that age. A clone wouldn't have been able to do that.

Lieutenant Reece sat behind her desk. Jo and Detective Hanson entered the office as well and, fortunately, closed the door behind them. It was bad enough to speak of this with Jo, Hanson, and Reece; he couldn't protect Abe without their help. But he had no desire for it to spread any farther than them. Henry stood in front of the desk and clasped his hands behind him, where nobody could see them shake and clutch at each other.

"You have a son?" Reece asked gently.

"I do," Henry confessed for the first time in decades. Despite his terror, his voice was suffused with pride.

"I thought you said you didn't have any kids," Jo said.

"We adopted," Henry said. The breath he took was a little ragged. "In 1945." He braced himself for what was coming. It was out there. He couldn’t take it back now.

All three of them stared at him for a while, neither speaking nor making any expressions.

"Is that an adoption agency, or what?" Hanson finally ventured. Henry's heart leapt. He could still lie and claim the more logical possibility, that Abe had been born in the 21st century. But just as soon as the thought entered his head, Henry dismissed it. That wouldn't keep Abe safe. He'd do a lot of things to keep his secret, but he would not sacrifice his son for it.

"The year 1945," Henry clarified. His hands were slick with perspiration, but now that he'd told the first of it, the rest followed more easily. "Abe was found in Auschwitz." He can see it in their eyes: they're already convinced that he's mad.

"That kid wasn't even a twinkle in his grandfather's eye in 1945, and neither were you," Reece said.

"I know you're worried because Abe's missing, but don't do this," Jo begged. "Come on, you know how crazy this sounds."

"I realize it sounds mad, and I sound mad for saying it. Believe me, there is nothing I would rather do than to continue pretending I was born in 1979 rather than 1779; but we'll never solve this case if you don't have all the facts." He forced the next words out. "I believe Lucas was right."

"Right about what?" Hanson asked.

"Even Lucas didn't believe that theory," Jo protested.

"Neither did I," Henry said. "The idea is ludicrous, the kind of thing that belongs in one of his comic books."

"What theory?" Hanson asked.

Henry turned to Hanson. "Lucas has a theory—a ridiculous one, as most of his theories are, but nevertheless—"

"Lucas suggested that a year ago a mad scientist took sixty years of age and memories from the older Lydia, then returned them and killed her a few days ago," Jo finished for him.

"Lucas has a lot of crazy theories," Hanson said. "What's got you suddenly riding the crazy-train with him, doc?"

"I would have been quite pleased to keep my—our—history to myself in perpetuity," Henry said. "However, having become convinced of the validity of this ridiculous theory, I realized that Abe is in danger from the very person who killed Lydia. And unfortunately, convincing you all of its veracity may be the only way we can figure out who that person is."

Reece leaned forward. "All right, Henry, convince us."

"I do have a number of photographs at home; some of them even have me in them, although I usually try to avoid being photographed. However, for more immediate gratification I suggest speaking to Abe."

"Abe? Not you?"

"You already think me mad; I doubt there's anything I could say to convince you otherwise. But Abe is, at the least, an outside perspective. If you can't believe my words, ask him what he thinks the date is. Ask how he was adopted. Ask his address—I believe the unis have already verified that it's been turned into an office building. You're detectives, I'm sure you can come up with a way to verify Lucas's theory or my age. Just, please, consider them as possibilities. And if you decide that I truly am mad—"

Jo raised an eyebrow at him. _What?_

"Just fire me and allow Abe and me to go on our way. I've spent enough time in padded rooms."

"You were in a mental institution?"

"The first time, I was put through a very scientific treatment called hydrotherapy," Henry said, his voice brittle. "I believe they call it waterboarding these days. Please. I'm no danger to anyone."

Jo stilled. "You know, they don't do that—"

Henry nodded tightly. "I am aware that the practice has long since been discontinued, but you'll forgive me if I've a bit of a phobia of mental institutions these days."

"I'll consider it," Reece said. Henry's stomach churned at the uncertainty, but it was the best he would get. "Detectives? Go interview the kid."

"He's used to keeping my secret," Henry pointed out Jo gave him a look: _we're detectives, we know how to conduct an interview_. And then they were gone, leaving him alone with Reece.


	4. Chapter 4

"Why don't you take a seat?" Reece ordered, fixing Henry with a look.

Henry's hands shook as he pulled them behind his back. He saw her watching them, and curled them into fists in his lap.

"What made you tell your secret today?" She asked.

"Abe is a child again, strange as that may be," Henry said. "And the last time somebody was in similar circumstances, she came to my knowledge when she appeared on my table. I have to protect Abe, and I can't do it on my own." He met her gaze, and she saw terror lurking in the depths of his eyes.

"You know we'd protect him, no matter what your relationship. You didn't have to tell us he was born in 1945."

"'44, actually, '45 is when we adopted him, but—right, that's not what you want to know. Well, the fact is that if I didn't tell you Lucas's hypothesis and why I believe it, you'd have no idea what to watch for."

"Even if we accept that hypothesis, we don't have any more to go on than we did before."

"That's not true at all! We know that whoever developed the procedure is highly intelligent. Given that I haven't read about anything even remotely related in any respectable literature, we may assume that they have been out of academia for some time. Such a development should have had papers published about its incremental progress over the years; either its developer has been working on classified research, or they've acquired a source of private funding so lucrative that they've been convinced to not publish. Either way, the developer's early work from before they left academia is likely both brilliant and related in some way to this project. Without Lucas's hypothesis, we'd be looking for an altogether different criminal. We'd have no reason to suspect a scientific background, much less one of this caliber."

"It sounds like we've got a lot to go on, if your theory's true."

"It's not my theory, it's Lucas's; I've simply been convinced."

"That happened awfully fast."

"Wouldn't you immediately recognize your relatives if they suddenly became younger?" Henry asked. "Your siblings, perhaps. I assure you, it's the same for your child. I had considered the possibility of cloning, but cloning would not explain why young Abe recognizes me as his father. Even if this scientist had come up with a method of implanting memories, for them to implant memories of me--well, if they knew about me then they would find me a more interesting subject of study than Abe."

"So you jump to a conclusion that isn't even scientifically possible?" Reece demanded. "I put up with a lot of weirdness from you, Henry, but you've always stuck to the realm of the possible in the past."

"Believe me, I'm as much of a skeptic as anybody," Henry said. "Unfortunately, I've been forced to confront the fact that sometimes things you'd swear are impossible are, in fact, not only possible but also happening to you."

At that moment, Hanson walked in, his face ashen. "Lieu, it's true."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry has a panic attack; Lucas learns of Abe's affliction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a panic attack.  
> Graciously betaread by superlc529.

"Hey, Henry. Didn't get much sleep last night? Ooh, was it a _date_?" Lucas paused for no longer than a millisecond to gather his next inane thought. "Was it with Jo? _Please_ tell me it was with Jo. I've got money on this."

"You've been gambling on my relationship with Detective Martinez?" Henry scowled.

"So it's 'Detective Martinez' today? Guess the date wasn't with her after all. Or it didn't go well. But if that was true, why would you look all sleep-deprived today?"

Henry sighed his exasperation. "There wasn't any date, Lucas. Neither with Jo nor with anyone else. Abraham was rather upset last night—understandably so—so I had to spend my time comforting him and helping him settle in. We'd never planned to have a child staying at the shop."

"Child?" Lucas asked. "What child? Wait, don't tell me you . . ." He trailed off, making gestures that Henry had no hope of understanding.

Henry froze. Lucas didn't know. And he had to know, if Lucas was to continue working on this case, the same as the detectives had to know. Henry would have to tell his secret again.

It was as if the air had left the room. Henry rubbed at the pain in his chest. His heart was pounding as if he were running for his life. Some distant part of his mind whispered that he was probably hyperventilating, but there was a vast difference between treating others' symptoms and his own. If he could just _concentrate_ he would remember how to fix this.

"Hey, are you alright?" Lucas asked from a great distance. Why was Lucas in another room? Had he walked away without Henry even noticing? Henry had to tell him . . . tell him . . .

Somebody shoved Henry down in a chair and made him lean forward between his knees.

"Paper bag, paper bag, there's got to be a paper bag here somewhere, right?" Lucas babbled. The familiar sound of his panicked speech was somehow soothing to Henry. Lucas panicked over the most ridiculous things sometimes, and he always talked to himself (or to Henry, which ended up being pretty much the same thing). Lucas panicking was normal, not something to worry about. Henry's breathing slowed and evened out. Coming back to himself, he realized he must have had a panic attack. He hadn't had one of those since . . . he forced his mind away from memories of some of his darkest days. He'd managed it then. He could manage it now. He'd already been through the worst in the past, hadn't he? There was nothing to panic over now, not even telling Lucas his secret. It was no mystery what would happen to him if his trust was betrayed again.

Lucas finally stopped running around like a chicken with its head cut off and noticed Henry's recovery. "You're better!" he exclaimed. "I mean, not that I doubted you would, but I don't even know if I did the right thing! What if I'd made you worse rather than better?"

"Lucas, I'm fine," Henry said, his voice a bit uneven still. "I just . . . I have to tell you . . ." The words wouldn't come. They were stuck somewhere inside him (his throat, probably, judging by how it felt) and refused to budge. _Why_ was this happening now? He'd told the detectives and Lieutenant Reece yesterday without much problem except for some emotional turmoil, but he just. couldn't. tell. Lucas.

"Look, you don't have to say anything," Lucas told him. "You're obviously freaking out for some reason, so you should talk to _somebody_ , and obviously I'm happy to listen if there's anything you want to say, but you don't have to talk to me if it makes you have a panic attack. This one time—"

Before Lucas could go into one of his long-winded anecdotes, Jo came into the morgue.

"Well, guess I know when I'm not needed," Lucas said and turned to leave, then turned back after only one step. "Unless I am?"

Henry rubbed his eyes tiredly. The day had barely started and he'd already gone through the emotional wringer. "Hello, Jo. Would you mind . . ." His breath hitched. ". . . telling Lucas everything from yesterday?"

Jo peered at him with concern. "Are you sure, Henry?"

"I'm afraid he has to know, as my assistant on the case. And as it was his theory in the first place . . ."

Jo still seemed uncertain, and concerned about Henry, but she turned to Lucas. "Henry made a huge breakthrough in the case yesterday."

"Like _that's_ a surprise," Lucas scoffed. "So it's all wrapped up now? Why the dramatics, then?"

"No, unfortunately the case is way more complicated than we thought. And . . . weird." She hesitated, still not thrilled to speak about such an absurd thing, even if it was true. Maybe even especially since it was true. "Do you remember your theory the other day? About the . . . deaging?"

"Well, yeah. What about it?" It seemed that even Lucas would not immediately leap to the conclusion that such an absurd hypothesis could be the truth.

Jo hesitated again. "Abe makes a very cute kid," she said obliquely.

Henry had to smile at that. How could he not? Abe was his son, the only one still living. And he really was a cute kid, both in looks and in personality. Though Henry might be slightly biased.

"Oh? Did Henry show you some pictures?" Lucas was perfectly happy to follow what he thought was a sudden change of topic. But not for long, as he did the math. "Wait, a kid? Abe got deaged? I was _right_?"

"Somehow, yes, you're right."

"I know we're living in the future now, but I didn't think we'd reached the mad scientist part of the future," Lucas marveled. "You're sure it's not a coincidence? There's what, 7 billion people on Earth? The odds of some kid looking like Abe as a kid might be small, but there's got to be someone out there, right? Unless he kept his memories?"

"No, the last Abe knew it was the '50s, but—" she double-checked that Henry was all right with her continuing. He wasn't (how could he be? Two centuries of fear, a not-inconsequential amount of that time spent actually living his worst fears—it was a miracle of desperation that he'd managed to get through his confession yesterday, much less this, the second in 24 hours), but he gave her a tight nod. "Abe recognized his dad right away."

"What? Abe's, like, 80! How is his dad still alive?"

"Henry's immortal," Jo said.

It seemed to take Lucas a few moments to process what she'd said, because he just froze. Henry had never seen Lucas so shocked in their years of working together. He stared at Henry with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights. "Immortal?" He finally squeaked out.

Now that the initial hurdle was over, so to speak, Henry found that he was able to speak once again. He'd spent so much time obsessing over the precise definition of immortality that it was rather soothing to him, like an old friend (two centuries old, as a matter of fact). "The term immortal is, perhaps, misleading, as I _can_ die, and have done so rather more often than I'd like. Death just never seems to take. Shortly after I die temporarily, I reawaken in the nearest body of water." With disgruntlement, he continued, "Naked."

"Wait, naked? You mean that the skinny-dipping—"

Henry cut Jo off. "I am not, nor have I ever been, a somnambulist."

"But that means that every time you got arrested for skinny-dipping, it was because you _died_!"

"Not _every_ time," Henry protested. "If you'll recall, one time I was arrested for attempting to retrieve evidence."

"Yeah, one time," Jo scoffed. "Out of how many? And I only know about the recent ones. You're Abe's dad, so I doubt that over however many years you've been alive those are the only times you've died."

Henry couldn't quite shrug that off. He'd never quite gotten acclimated to dying, even though he knew he'd always come back (sometimes, he thought that he'd go into his final death thinking he'd come back from it). He wasn't Adam yet. "I discovered my immortality in 1814," he said instead. "And while I understand your concern, please. Immortality is a curse—seeing everyone you love die over the years. Every death takes me slightly closer to understanding this curse, to finally learning how to age like the rest of you. I beg you, don't get upset over them. There are so many worthier causes to devote your energy to. Such as this case," he ended pointedly.

It was obvious that Neither Jo nor Lucas had been reassured by what he'd said (and he could practically see an incessant torrent of questions building up in Lucas's mind), but they dropped the subject for the moment.

"Okay, the case!" Jo said. "The team's gathering in the Lieu's office in a few minutes. I guess since Lucas knows everything now, he can come too. I don't suppose you've figured out anything new?"

"We're still waiting for the labs to come back, and I'm afraid I was too busy last night to even think much about the case in terms of who might have done it, or how, instead of how it affects Abe and me."

"Great! I think we're all on the same page, then. Hanson will be thrilled that you haven't had a eureka moment overnight and made him look bad in comparison."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never had a panic attack, so I'm not sure how well I wrote it. Let me know how I can improve!


End file.
